


Excipio

by PuppyGuppy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Pre-Established Relationship, Un-beta'd we die like men, gay panic!, little chef, nothing but fluff, set at some point during KH3 tho, very mild KH3 spoilers but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy
Summary: One would think, after everything they'd been through, Sora and Riku would be used to surprising each other. Or just used to surprises in general.





	Excipio

One would think, after everything they'd been through, Sora and Riku would be used to surprising each other. Or just used to surprises in _general_.

But maybe that was some of the magic that made their- _whatever it was_ \- just so good. No matter the sheer amount of frightening, frustrating, _heart-breaking_ surprises their lives were fraught with every day, the two still managed to counter them with their own little happy ones.

It was during a day of R&R at Radiant Garden (which was a surprise within _itself_ ), that Riku had been blessed with the sudden shock of witnessing Sora dance. Now, his best friend _dancing_ wasn't what caught him off-guard. No, Riku had previously been privy to the occasional random jig that Sora would get when listening to a tune, be it audible or in his head. He was naturally a jittery, silly person, so the idea of Sora dancing was always just a natural assumption. Basically a proven _fact_ , if their shared childhood was any proof. Riku could recall many boisterous, clumsy attempts that always ended in sweaty, linked hands and simple twirling. More laughter than movement.

No, what came as the surprise was not that Sora was dancing, but Sora was dancing _well_.

And, as if Riku wasn't still adjusting to the fact his best friend could competently wield a keyblade now, he had to also adjust to-

 _This_.

They'd been heading to a shop; Riku ever responsibly suggesting they take at least _some_ of the day to restock their supplies and maybe upgrade their keyblads. Sora, though pouting at the suggestion of _working_ when they should be _relaxing_ , was never one to deny the other anything these days. Whenever he could, Sora was following Riku. And if not following him, walking _beside_ him. With him. Maybe just close enough their fingers would brush, sending goosebumps up their arms at the charged air that only _they_ could feel; sparking with insinuation and possibilities and not-quite-spoken confessions..

So Sora had amicably agreed, pout instantly vanishing when Riku gave him that small, amused smile. And together they'd left Merlin's house (where they were currently staying) to head towards the plaza; Sora's hands comfortably linked behind his neck, leaving Riku to shove his in his pockets. No sparks today, which was both a blessing and a curse.

It meant Riku could actually focus on _breathing_ , and going over his mental list of supplies as they walked, even if it meant ignoring the small, needling amount of disappointment in his heart. And also kind of ignoring his best friend's rambling about what he'd done to piss off Donald _this time_ , keeping his responses to slight nods and short hums, just enough to keep Sora under the impression he was paying full attention.

Riku had been silently taking stock of their current, combined amount of curatives, when Sora had suddenly scampered off in some random direction. He'd blinked, distractedly flicking his gaze over, a slow question forming on his tongue as he tried to keep count _and_ also figure out what his friend was up to-

And then both his list and his question were blown right out of his mind.

See, Sora had known the whole time Riku had been ignoring him. And if there was anything he hated, it was being _ignored_. It was bad enough he'd dragged him on this boring trip, even worse that his friend seemed more interested in his own thoughts than the living, breathing man by his side. And even though Sora never wanted to lose sight of Riku _again_ , and Riku had done so much to become the balanced being he was now, that didn't stop Sora from thinking he could still be pretty insufferable at times.

They should be _relaxing_ , damn it.

So, deciding to have a little fun, and hopefully shake up his companion, Sora had jumped at the first decent pile of unmarked rubbish he saw, wasting no time weaving between pedestrians until he came upon a sturdy wooden barrel.

Which he'd promptly, _effortlessly_ , tipped onto it's side and mounted in a smooth, flashy display of whirls, balanced on one hand with legs kicked out in he air. He'd ended the abrupt show with a practiced, almost elegant double backflip, sticking the landing to the sound of a few jeers, claps, and scattered money from the passers-by. Even threw in some corny jazz hands, grin full of cheese- ever the crowd pleaser.

But Sora wasn't looking at the crowd, or the money. He was panting, just slightly, with those wide, glinting blues and that cheesy grin pointed directly at _Riku_.

And Riku was staring right on back, his own eyes wide and jaw slack, not blinking. Or breathing. Sora had definitely gotten his attention, his head now empty save for the sound of his own heart doing the same backflips he'd just seen his best friend perform. By the time he sucked in a quick gasp of breath, he could practically taste the electricity in the air between them. It made his nose crinkle, going pink.

The longer he stared though, without a word, the pinker _Sora_ got, too.

So much for focusing, so much for _breathing_.

But then, as if nothing had happened, Sora returned to Riku's side, hands fisted on his hips, still blushing. "So, _as I was saying_ , Donald.."

Riku tried to pay attention, he really, really did. But now not only could he not think of supplies, or keyblades, he could't think about what his friend was saying, _either_. His thoughts were too focused on how Sora had _moved_. And how he wanted to watch him move _more. Make_ him move. And how they were walking so close now that their fingers _were_ brushing. And how the goosebumps were _everywhere_ now. And how he could feel his cheeks and neck turning the same color as his nose.

He'd spluttered when the shop keeper asked how to help, much to his embarrassment, which only turned to horror at Sora's cheeky, knowing smirk. _When had they made it to the store?_ But then Sora was sliding a piece of paper across the counter, throwing the seller a charming grin. It was a list. _Sora had made a list?_

"I got you, boo." The wink was over the top flirtatious, and so was the kissy face, both thrown right in Riku's face. All he could do was laugh; the kind of laugh that started as a sudden bark but quickly evaporated into boyish giggling. His brain was _mush_ , heart _racing_ , tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He was full to the point of brimming, full of _Sora_ , it was ridiculous.

It wasn't until the shopkeeper had retreated to fill their order, brows raised in confused merriment, that Riku managed to speak.

"You-you're just-"

"I'm just _what_ , Riku? _Hm?_ " Sora was egging him on, one brow quirked in question, but ocean eyes deep with mirth. He was just happy to finally have his friend's attention, fully.

Riku's giggles ebbed into broken, tickled humming, whole body warm as he fixed what we're probably the googliest eyes _ever_ , onto his best friend. He took a moment to respond, just enough to both compose himself and for Sora to lean in _just_ a bit closer, curiosity waxing on his face.

"You're just such a surprise, Sora. " His words were soft, _sincere_ , along with his smile. Which only grew to cheshire proportions as he watched a hundred different emotions cross Sora's face.

" _Ri_ -ku!" Sora guffawed, face scrunched up as his skin darkened, one hand coming up to hide only half of the reaction. It left one, equally as googly eye squinting at him, exasperated yet _elated_ snickers muffled by a palm.

Seems Riku could be _just_ as surprising.

 

~//~

 

One would think, after everything they'd been through, Sora and Riku would be used to surprising each other. Or just used to surprises in _general_.

But maybe that was some of the magic that made their- _whatever it was_ \- just so good. No matter the sheer amount of frightening, frustrating, _heart-breaking_ surprises their lives were fraught with every day, the two still managed to counter them with their own little happy ones.

And Sora was easily surprised, to say the least. But that's how he liked to live, heart and mind open to everything and anything, greedily waiting for a happy little spark to add to his soul. He _never_ wanted to get used to surprises, he just wished there would stop being so many _bad_ ones. Surprises were great, they were exciting, and he often surprised _himself._

Like when he'd discovered he had a knack for cooking, only after a few lessons with his friend Little Chef, and then even _without_ said friend's help. It hadn't come easy, nothing in Sora's life had, but it had been so worth the challenge and occasional messy kitchen (and singed hair...). Sora didn't think himself good at many things. He was good at making friends, good at following his heart, but that was about it. Until he'd started cooking. And now he was good at feeding his friends, too!

That being said, there was one thing- just one, _singular_ thing that eluded him when it came to cooking. Sora, for the life of him, _could not crack an egg_. It always ended in disaster. Either the yolk broke, or the shell crushed into the egg, or the egg ended up on his hands, or his hair, or the _wall_ ; eggs were dangerous. Eggs were bad. So, accepting that "eggs" had to be added to the long lost of things he just couldn't do, Sora had quickly learned how to cook while avoiding the finicky things. There was lots of eggless food, anyways! The only time he ever _needed_ them was when he baked, and even then, there were always substitutes. _Who even liked eggs_?

 _Riku_ , he'd discovered. Riku absolutely _loved_ eggs.

Which did surprise him, but he couldn't decide if that particular one was a good one or a _bad_ one.

Either way, it was the current reason Sora found himself in the kitchen of the Mysterious Tower at four in the morning, sporting bags under his eyes and a sky-high stack of egg cartons. Previously, after learning of his best friend's egg obsession, " _It's the most amount of protein a human can get at once_ ", Sora had tried to impress Riku by meeting him in the middle. He'd tried scrambled eggs, which, as long as he scooped out all the broken shell, didn't matter if the yolk broke; it was getting scrambled, anyways! Riku had enjoyed the dish, which Sora had expertly garnished with fresh parsley, and just a _dash_ of salt and pepper. Had it been up to him, it would have been smothered in tomato sauce, too, but Riku enjoyed the _simple_ things.

However, it hadn't been good enough. Because, though scrambled eggs were good, Riku's _favourite_ were poached eggs.

Mother. Fucking. _Poached_. Eggs.

Once again, Sora had tried to meet him halfway; he'd spent _weeks_ off and on in the various kitchens of where he stayed (sometimes even camp fires), sweating and cursing and crying, wrists cramping, until he'd been able to gift Riku with the _okay_ -est fried eggs he'd ever made. Only one yolk broke, while he'd flipped them, nonetheless Riku had cleaned his plate with a satisfied smile, and a mention of how fried eggs went best with some buttery toast. Toast! Sora had forgotten _toast!_

But it still wasn't enough, even _with_ toast, and even if Riku never said it- Sora knew. He knew that, deep down, he wasn't even _close_ to satisfying his best friend's basest needs. And it drove him a bit bonkers.

That's why he'd gotten up at three AM during a longer stay at the Mysterious Tower. So he could get to a shop, buy out their entire stock of eggs and one loaf of bread (toast wasn't the hard part), and still get back to the Tower with plenty of time to poach an egg before Riku got up. The shopkeeper working the graveyard shift seemed surprisingly unfazed by the savior of the worlds buying out their whole supply of eggs at an ungodly hour.

It was now four AM, which gave Sora _at least_ two hours to practice before his friend would even possibly stir. He had the counter topped with stacked cartons, his needed wares, and the one loaf of fresh bread. The cook book Little Chef had lended him was propped up against a fruit bowl, open to the section covering eggs. Sora was exhausted, and as he skimmed the pages, had to fight off the long, slow blinks his body kept making. It didn't help that his brain was still a tad fuzzy, but he refused to remedy the situation with coffee. He'd tried the foul drink once, and taste aside, it had done little good- it just made it impossible to focus for _other_ reasons.

It wasn't until his head almost hit the counter top that he admitted slight defeat, already having wasted fifteen minutes on trying, and _failing_ to read the recipe. Sleep was winning. But Sora _refused_ to back down on this. He would do this, if not for Riku, then for _himself_. Because he knew, honestly, his friend would eat anything he made him, and do so happily. That's just how Riku _was_.

" _Silence_." Sora whispered softly, but firmly, to himself and the surrounding air. With a snap of his fingers, gentle, barely seen light illuminated the kitchen in a vague bubble, before disappearing with a _whoosh_. Magic was another thing Sora was kind of good at. He was better at magic than using the Keyblade. That was all Riku.

Space now sufficiently sound proof to the rest of the tower, Sora set about curing his grogginess, first. With green tea. He'd fallen in love with the beverage after Mulan had introduced him to it in The Land of Dragons. It was a nicer way to wake up, both the scent and warmth coaxing his body into cohesion, and he could combat the taste with a little bit of honey, courtesy of Pooh Bear. It didn't slam dunk his senses into mach-ten like coffee did.

Thirty minutes later, making it now 4:45 AM, Sora was putting down his empty mug of tea and smiling, determined. The only sign of his past sleepiness still in the dark circles around his eyes, but he knew those would fade. He could always take a nap later. For now, he only had an hour and fifteen minutes left to perfect a poached egg.

It was too late when Sora realized he could have used a _Stopra_ spell as well, to give himself more time. He'd naively thought he'd master the art of poaching in under two hours, or maybe it had just been dumb hope, but alas; here he was with only three eggs left, a bin full off disappointment and a heart full of frustration. If anything, he'd successfully (and selfishly) wasted a ton of food. He wanted to cry, but willed the dam in his eyes to stay shut by digging the palms of his hands against them. He needed to ground himself. He wasn't such a child that not poaching an egg would _break_ him.

At least he'd manged to keep the kitchen clean, all things considered. He sighed, long and slow and heavy, ignored the way his lip quivered-

and jolted when a pair of arms wrapped around his middle.

"You're up early." It was Riku. It was Riku hugging him from behind, with folded hands on his tummy. It was Riku murmuring low in his ear, chin resting on his shoulder. It was Riku, Sora took note of, lowering his hands from his eyes slowly, it was Riku _awake_ , while he was sans poached egg.

He'd failed. _Again_. He was most definitely going to cry.

As if Riku sensed this (because he definitely could), he gave Sora a squeeze, comforting. "What's all this, then?" He was still murmuring, voice low and against his neck, but Sora could feel his eyes examining the scene before them. He shuddered, and Riku _definitely_ noticed.

"I-... I was trying to poach you an egg." Sora mumbled, shoulders shrugging against his friend involuntarily as he looked away from it all. From the strong, pale arms around him, and his morning mishap. This, however, exposed more of his neck, where he could easily feel both Riku's breathe and his growing smile.

Now he wanted to cry for an entirely different reason.

It stayed like that a moment, kitchen silent as Sora assumed Riku processed the information, until he could both feel and hear the laughter. _Riku was laughing at him_. Yup, he'd failed. He wanted to run off and sulk somewhere, but trapped in his friend's arms, he had nowhere to go. And then Riku was speaking, warm and bemused, _and still against his neck_.

"You're telling me that you woke up, in the middle of the night, just to cook me breakfast?" He was hot. From shame, from the warm embrace, from _something else_. He was burning from the inside out, clenching fists at his sides. "I'm sorry." He gritted out. He shouldn't have even tried. Riku liking eggs was definitely a _bad_ surprise.

But then the laughing stopped, and Riku was holding Sora extra tight, nuzzling his nose into his shoulder where he placed a muffled " _Oh_ , Sora." It was awe and sympathy and disbelief, and it left a warm, wet patch on Sora's shirt.

Those strong arms were moving, not releasing Sora, but instead hands grasping at his wrists. It was slow, and gentle, and the drag if Riku's fingertips across his front made his breathe hitch. It made him finally look again, look at his clasped wrists and the mess he'd made. His friend had straightened up behind him, head now resting on top of his bed-messy hair.

"Let me help?" It was a question filled with both too-early amusement and _need_ , and Sora could feel the vibration of Riku's voice in his skull. He swallowed down the lump that had grown in his throat. This was... This was familiar, in a sense. It's how Little Chef had taught him, more or less. But at the same time, completely, heart-stutteringly different. Because his best friend was pressed against him, solid and intimate, ready to guide his hands with his own. Instead of pulling on his hair.

Sora would _not_ let his mind travel down that path of thought any longer, ever thankful Riku could not see his blush from their current position. All he could do was nod, quick and careful underneath his friend's head.

Then, together as one, they managed to crack a perfect egg on the first try, all the while Riku whispering happy encouragements into Sora's ear, and how adding vinegar to the water helps the egg hold its shape; then bread was toasted, _just so,_ with a generous helping of butter, all placed on a plate by seven o'clock, just how Riku liked it.

" _Perfect_." The praise was hummed more than spoken, right back in Sora's ear. He wasn't sure Riku meant the eggs. He gasped, intertwining their fingers as Riku nosed right behind it, then placed the warmest, lingering kiss there; as if a secret to keep for later. Sora was trembling, and all over _pink,_ by the time his best friend detangled himself to eat his well-deserved breakfast.

And then Riku opened his big, lovely, _stupid_ , mouth and shattered what little resolve Sora had left.

"You should just hard boil the other two. Though poached _is_ my favourite, nothing beats a quick, hard boiled egg in the summer time." Riku was teasing him, obvious in the way his Adam's apple wobbled with contained laughter as he tucked into his food. He refused to look at Sora.

It came as a surprise to them both. How Sora, in the blink of an eye, had moved to hover over Riku, whose hair was now dripping with egg. Apparently, in his sudden, albeit calm rage, he'd climbed over the counter to where Riku was sitting at the bar, and cracked those last two eggs _right_ on his head. The crunch was positively satisfying.

Aquamarine eyes squinted up at him through soggy bangs of silver, _miffed,_ and Sora snorted, almost choking on his next words. There was one more thing he was surprisingly skilled at, depending on who you asked.

"You know what, _Riku?_ You're not all you're _cracked up_ to be."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Excipio kind of means "a welcome surprise"
> 
> <3


End file.
